Guardian Angel
by starcatcher1027
Summary: When seventeen-year old Chastity Clearwater and her boyfriend go into the Hunger Games together, it will change their lives forever. Follow she and Mason Odair's journey through their unforgettable and unforgiving experince in the 46th Annual Hunger Games as the first Star-Crossed Lovers! Please remember to review! Thanks for reading! :D Rated T because it is in the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

I love the ocean. Its flowing, majestic waves and its crystal-clear light blue hue. The way the sun's reflection is warped in the ripples of the water.

Although I have a love for it, I envy the ocean. The ocean is free. Something I, or my country, will probably never be.

There used to be a time when we were free. Back when this land was called North America. But then the fires and floods and earthquakes and storms came and pretty much destroyed everything. After that, Panem was founded. It had thirteen Districts and the Capitol. The Districts didn't like the way they were being treated by the Capitol, so they rebelled. Twelve of the Districts were defeated, and the thirteenth was completely destroyed. To remind us never to do that again, they created the Hunger Games.

Speaking of the Hunger Games, today is reaping day. One girl and one boy, each between the ages of 12 and 18, will be reaped from each of the 12 districts to fight to the death. It could be anyone. It could be me. Mason. His siblings. My classmates Anyone. It's scary. Some people, like me, are more likely to be reaped, though. My name is in twenty-six times, six for each year I've been in the Reaping, and twenty tesserae. Mason's name is in seven times, one for each Reaping. This is his last. He comes from one of District 4's more fortunate families, so he's never had to worry about tesserae. He's lucky. He's not likely to get picked. But I am. My name is in way too many times to be relatively safe. The odds are certainly not in my favor. I shutter as I think this, and try to push it to the back of my mind. I don't want to have to worry about it. I probably won't get reaped anyways.

I sat on the beach thinking about this when I heard someone walking behind me. I turned around to see Mason, my boyfriend, standing behind me.

I smiled as he came around and sat down next to me.

"Hey Chastity."

"Hey."

We stared out at the ocean for a minute as a dolphin wove in and out of the ocean. We both smiled.

"You nervous?" he asked, turning his gaze on me.

I took a deep breath. "Kind of. I came here to try to calm myself. The ocean relaxes me."

He nodded.

"Are you?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I try not to be. That dumb Capitol can do whatever they want with me. Can't let it worry me. It's out of my hands."

I looked around cautiously. "Shhh! They'll hear you!"

Most people hated the Capitol. That's only natural, considering how poorly they treat us. Not to mention that they take people's children and murder them. I despised them a lot too. But if we trash-talk it, we could get into a lot of trouble if a Peacekeeper or someone from the Capitol heard. We just had to keep stuff like that to ourselves.

"What?"

"The Capitol talk!" I said in a hushed tone.

He frowned. "Oh. Right."

"But I do have to agree with you, even if I can't do that myself."

"I know. It's okay." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I laid my head down on it.

I sighed. "I hope it isn't one of us…"

"It won't be."

"You don't know that." I said with a frown. "My name's in a lot of times."

He hesitated. "How many?"

"Twenty-six."

He paused for a minute, probably thinking about my odds. "Just don't worry about it, okay? It'll be fine. Neither of us will be reaped. Too many slips. Everything will be fine. We'll celebrate afterwards. Okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled. "I bought some potatoes and a few shrimps with the tesserae oil I sold. I could fix that."

I didn't know if selling what you get for putting in tesserae was illegal or not, but it was what I had to do to get by. I sold or traded some of it at the market to get better stuff, and what was left I just used for myself. I had to provide for myself most of the time since my parents died when I was young. But Mason helped whenever he could. I was grateful. He'd saved my life multiple times, and helping me have something to eat helped.

He smiled. "That sounds good. I could bring some cheese buns. I think my mom's got some in the oven."

"Okay. I love your mother's cheese buns."

He stood up and brushed the sand off his pants. "Well, I've got to get my Reaping clothes on."

I nodded and stood up. "I do too."

He smiled. "See you there."

"See you."

And so we set off in opposite directions, me towards my house, and he towards his.

I stared at my reflection in the tainted, cracked mirror on the dresser in my room. I had put on one of my mother's old dresses. It was a simple pink knee-length dress with sleeves that went down to the crook of my elbow. I'd always been pretty small, so the sleeves went down farther than intended. It was the same way for my mother, who used to own it. A white band stretched across the torso. It was a modest but lovely dress, and it's always been my favorite.

I grabbed a hairbrush and started to run it through my long, wavy light-brown hair. It was frizzy and a bit matted from swimming in the ocean the day before, but I brushed it out and pulled it back with a white ribbon. I didn't have much makeup, but I put on some lipstick and blush that used to be my mother's.

I looked into the mirror at myself. I had my mother's hair, small nose, and figure. I had my father's dark brown eyes, small lips, and I also happened to have his big feet. A 5'3 girl with size 10 ½ feet. Although it made it that I couldn't wear most shoes, I didn't mind.

I slipped on some pink flats and walked out the door. Lots of people were already headed to the Reaping, so I followed. When I first saw the stage, my heart skipped a beat. The nerves really started to set in.

Almost everyone was already at the Reaping when I got there. Children of each age were roped off separately, oldest at the front, and youngest in the back. I could see a few 12-year olds crying. I glanced over at the adults, roped off to the side. You could tell which ones were parents by their pained expressions and stiff movements.

I caught a glimpse of Mason's parents, who looked really worried. This would be the only year all four of their children are in the Reaping. There's Mason, who's 18, Melly and Job, who are fourteen year old twins, and Juby, who's 12. They had another son a few years before Mason was born, named Roland, but he was Reaped at his first Reaping and died in the bloodbath. Mason can't remember him very well, considering he was seven, and his other siblings have no memory of him. Ever since then, his parents have been very afraid of the Reaping, and of the Games. But I wish I could be as calm as them. Almost nothing is scarier than knowing your life may be on the line. The only thing that is is knowing that you're going to have to keep living without someone you love. That's the way I felt after my parents died.

I was knocked out of my trance when I heard the squealing of a baby. I jumped and forced my legs to go get with the others. I looked around at all the other kids, with their grim expressions and the worried look in their eyes, afraid that they will be saying goodbye to their lives.

No one should have to worry about something like that.

Some of them, mainly guys, looked determined, enthusiastic even. The kids who train for this so they can volunteer. If I happened to be chosen, I hoped one of them would volunteer for me.

I got in my place in the area with the seventeen year old girls. I hugged a couple of them that I know from school.

When I heard someone clearing their throat, I turned around to face the stage, where our Mayor, Mayor Dole, was standing at the podium.

"Welcome, everyone," he says to the crowd, speaking to the big microphone.

He then reads for a while about the founding of Panem. It's the same long, boring story every year. I'm always too nervous to focus on what he's saying.

After that, he told us the names of all of District 4's past victors. I spent most of it staring at a mockingjay sitting atop the Justice Building, but I saw one of them, who was supposedly named Mags. She looked friendly. She met my eyes and gave a reassuring smile. I forced one back.

When he was done introducing the past victors, I realized that it was now time for the names to be reaped. I gripped the hem of my dress to try to still my trembling. Mayor Dole introduced Poppy Corona, and I took a deep breath as our escort, a short, plump woman with a yellow dress and heels walked up to the microphone. She had orange hair with a darker orange ponytail. I don't understand Capitol fashion at all. I can only imagine what a Capitol fashion magazine must be like.

"Welcome, everyone!" she said in her overly-enthusiastic Capitol accent. She beamed at the crowd. I stared.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" she chirped. I scowled. For years I had thought that they meant 'in the odds of not being reaped.' But after a while, I realized that they meant in the favor of getting picked. I've hated that saying ever since.

My eyes followed her as she walked up to the two large bowls at the front of the stage. I drew a shaky breath and glanced over in Mason's direction. He was gazing worriedly at me, but when we met eyes he gave a weak smile. I tried to return it but I couldn't find it in me. I quickly glanced back at the stage, where Poppy was preparing to draw the first name.

"Ladies first!" She said as her hand plunged into the large glass bowl of girl's names. She felt around for a few moments, and then closed her hand around a name at the side of the bowl. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut as she unfolded the slip of paper. Written in neat handwriting on that paper was the name of one unfortunate girl whose life was about to change forever. I desperately hoped that it wasn't me. I breathed out shakily. There were too many slips. Odds were, someone else would be reaped. I had 25 slips out of thousands. It wasn't going to be me. It couldn't be me.

But when she read the name on the slip of paper, I was proved wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

"Chastity Clearwater."

My eyes fluttered open. Me! It was me! Thousands of slips. Although I had bigger odds than most others, it was unlikely I would have been chosen. But I was. Just as easy as that, I was chosen to compete in these malevolent, despicable Games. I didn't do anything to deserve this. This wasn't fair.

I looked around to see that everyone had cleared a path for me. Their grim faces reflected their sympathy and sadness. Micah Gunston, a girl in my grade who sometimes sat with me in class and at lunch, looked like she was holding back tears. I stiffly walked toward the stage and up the stairs as my firm knuckles turned white. Poppy grinned at me. I choked back tears as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Hello, dear! Congratulations!"

I stared out at the crowd. I saw Mason, who had his head in his hands. I frowned.

"Well, do we have any volunteers?"

My eyes scanned the girls urgently. I felt hopeful that one of them would volunteer. After all, District 4 is one of those known by some as a "career" district, meaning the children in them were raised for the Games. Many of them have been training their whole lives, and have been raised with a warrior mindset. Almost every year, the tributes of Districts 1, 2, and 4 are volunteers. In these Districts, many find being Reaped an honor. I don't find it that way, nor does Mason. We would never volunteer in a million years for that reason. Many people do though, and most of them end up dying. But lots of them win. It's usually a Career that does.

But doesn't seem like District 4 will have a female Career this year, considering I'd never be worthy. No one budges. I see Mason, who looks distraught. I could tell both of us were desperate for a volunteer.

My heart drops when no one volunteers. So I'm, for sure, going to be competing in the 46th Annual Hunger Games.

In other words, I'm going to die.

Poppy then announces that it's time to reap the boy. I stare blankly into space, zoning out everything, until I hear the boy's name. I look over, and I see a young boy walking up toward the stage, looking at me. My heart breaks. I know him. Rocco Paisley. He's a nice little boy, definitely no older than twelve, with grey eyes and curly blond hair. His parents make fishing poles, spears, and nets, and own a small shop called Paisley's Fishing Gear, a small fishing store across the street from my house. I liked going there, not for fishing gear but for the little homemade candies his mother would sell. I'd become quite fond of his family, and of their shop. My stomach lurches at the thought of competing against him. I try to swallow, despite the lump in my lump in my throat, as he stands next to me.

Poppy then asks for volunteers, smiling at Rocco and I. We stare back grimly. I glance over at Mason, who starts walking towards the stage as soon as he sees me staring at him. My eyes widened. No. No, no, no, no. He can't be volunteering. Surely not.

Mason raised his hand as he approached the stage. "I volunteer!"

Oh, no. Not Mason too. I choke back a sob.

I want to tell him not to, but no words come out. I just stood there, mouth half-open, trying desperately not to cry.

Rocco walks back to his spot in the crows, obviously shaken up. Mason takes his place next to me, a determined look on his face. But I can see the scared look in his eyes.

He stands next to Poppy rigidly as she pats him on the back. "What's your name, son?" she asks.

"Mason Odair." He glanced over at me. I frowned. I know why he's doing this. To protect me. Even if he did volunteer, gosh, he shouldn't have to do this.

"Well, there we have it!" She said. "Give a hand for this year's tributes for District 4, Chastity Clearwater and Mason Odair!" She announced. "Shake hands!"

I held out my hand shakily. He grasped it and shook it. I stared at him. I wanted to break down, but now wasn't the time for tears. I couldn't present myself as weak. If the other tributes were to see this, they'd immediately see me as a good target.

I stand up taller and force a confident smile as a few people started clapping. The only people who did were those who don't care, or those who find this whole thing entertaining or an honor. But it isn't. All of this was wrong.

I looked at Mason, trying to control my emotions. But I could feel my lip quivering. He stared back. I could tell he was trying to stay collected too. I wish he hadn't gotten himself into this. He has so much to live for, and he doesn't deserve to die.

The Treaty of Treason was read, and then the national anthem was played. I didn't focus on it though. Soon, two Peacekeepers came to escort us through the mahogany doors of the Justice Building.

I glance back one more time at District 4. I'd never liked my life much before this moment, but now I'd do anything to have it back. I see the beach in the distance, right as the Peacekeepers close the doors behind us. My last bit of happiness. My last hope of freedom. And my last glimpse of home.

I sat in the small visiting room in the Justice Building, waiting for someone, anyone, to come see me, to say goodbye. I'm not going to leave the arena alive, I know it. It would make it a bit easier to know that someone cares.

Suddenly the door swung open and a girl walked in.

"Chastity!" Micah Gunston ran over to me and hugged me tightly. After a few seconds, I could feel tears on my shoulder. By crying, she was making this harder for the both of us. Her long red hair covered most of my face.

She pulled away and looked at me. "Chastity, you can do this. I have a distant cousin who won… honestly, no one expected her to, but she did. If she could do it, you can too." She forced a smile.

"Thanks."

She smiled sadly. "I'll probably be pretty lonely at school till you come back."

I chuckled softly. "We both know I'm not going to be coming out of there."

She stared at the floor for several minutes.

"And you have a lot of friends anyways." Although she wasn't popular, Micah did have plenty of friends. She was a very amiable, likeable person, and many people wanted to hang out with her. I'd only ever had a couple of friends, but they never pulled through. Although we weren't best friends or anything like that, Micah had always been there, and I'd just now realized that.

"Thank you."

She looked up slowly. "For what?"

"For always being my friend."

She smiled. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to."

The big mahogany doors of the room started to open. Micah stood up.

"And Chastity?"

"Yes?"

A Peacekeeper walked into the room. "Time's up."

She continued quickly. "I know you'll want Mason to live, but promise you'll try to survive?"

That was true. Unless Mason was somehow killed before me, I wasn't coming out. I wouldn't want to have to live without him anyways. But I didn't want to diminish her spirits. "I promise."

A tear rolling down her cheek and a ghost of a smile on her face was the last glimpse I got of Micah Gunston. It would probably be my last. I buried my head in my arms and fought against tears at the thought.

I heard the creak of the door, and footsteps followed. I unfolded my arms from around my head and looked up.

It was a middle-aged woman holding a small paper bag. She had the same dark brown eyes, light brown hair, and short height as me.

"My, Chastity, you've grown so much!" she said as she embraced me in a tight hug.

"I wanted to give you this." She thrust the little bag into my hands.

"Oh…thanks." I said. "Who…who are you?"

She patted me on the shoulder. "Chastity, I'm your aunt."

I stared. "I…have an aunt?"

She nodded and smiled sympathetically. "I…I'm sorry I was never there for you. I wanted to, but…" she trailed off.

I started to feel frustration welling rising up inside of me. If she was my aunt, why didn't I know about her until I was practically on my deathbed? And why hadn't she ever been there for me?

"Good luck in the arena, sweetheart. I know you can do it." She then walked out of the room.

I sat there, stunned. What on Earth had just happened?

I have an aunt?

For a few seconds, I just stared at the wall, thinking and blowing off steam. But then I realized I hadn't opened the bag. I opened the crinkled paper bag to find a little piece of bread. I took it out and examined it. Just normal bread. Couldn't it have been some kind of family heirloom or something?

Well, I guess it's the thought that counts…

I placed the bread back in the bag and shoved it into the little pocket on the side of my dress right as a Peacekeeper led me out of the room and to the back doors of the building. I was blinded by the flashes of Capitol photographer's cameras at the back door. At first I covered my eyes, but then I realized: I couldn't make myself look weak. The Careers might see this and deem me as a weak target. I wanted to stay alive as long as I could, so I put down my hand and composed a smile. I hoped that it didn't look forced, but it was.

I quit the act when I got into the train a few minutes later. I saw Mason standing across the room.

I ran into his arms and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

Trees whizzed by as Mason and I ran. We ran like we had never run before. The Peacekeepers were following closely behind us, but I wasn't afraid. We were losing them! And when we had started running, we caught them off guard, so I didn't see them grab any weapons. So there really wasn't much they could do. I looked over at Mason. He smiled. We were going to escape!

Suddenly, I felt my foot get caught on something, and I fell to the ground with a thud. I looked over and saw my foot entangled in a tree root. The Peacekeepers were gaining on us, _fast._ I had to do something, before we were caught. Who knows what they would do to us?

"Mason!" I screamed. He turned around and darted over. "Help! My foot!"

He grabbed my ankle and worked it free. It was cut up and scratched, and possibly sprained, but I ignored that fact as I started to scramble up. The Peacekeepers were only a few feet behind us! We had to hurry!

As soon as I got up and started running again, I heard a gunshot. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the Peacekeepers armed with guns. So they did have weapons. I heard my heart thumping in my ears as I continued to run, my legs pumping as fast as they could go. The Peacekeepers fired several more times, but missed. For a moment, I didn't hear any more shots being fired. Maybe they were out of bullets! I relaxed a bit, but still surged with fear.

Suddenly, I heard a gunshot, and then another. I glanced over right as Mason fell to the ground, blood streaming from his head and chest. I wailed and felt my knees buckle. I looked up at the Peacekeepers now looming over me right as I heard another shot, pointed right at my head.

I awoke suddenly to find Mason staring over at me, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. "Are you okay? You started thrashing a few minutes ago," he asked warily. We were sitting on a long red couch in an elegant room facing the wall. On the wall was a window, where you could see the landscape flying by. Cows grazed in huge fields.

I rubbed my eyes. The skin around them was sore from crying. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream." I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked around. "Where…where are we?"

He sighed. "On a train headed to the Capitol."

"Oh. Right." I stood up and stretched my legs and arms. "How long was I asleep?"

He shrugged. "A half an hour or so. I haven't seen any clocks in here yet so I'm not really sure."

I nodded. "Okay. Has our mentor or Poppy come in yet?"

"Poppy did. I had to make her quiet down. She was blabbing about how the tributes from 1 and 2 look really tough."

I sighed and walked over to the long mahogany table in the middle of the room. I ran my fingers along the smooth grooves on the table's legs and then looked up at him. "If that's true, what are we going to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we should avoid them, but be prepared to fight them if necessary."

I nodded. "Yeah. I guess."

He prepared to say something, but hesitated and closed his mouth.

I stared. "What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

"Tell me."

He stood up and walked over to me. "Well, I was just wondering, if maybe…would you want to join up with the Careers?"

I was taken aback by his suggestion. Should we? Everyone would probably be expecting that we'd be Careers. District 4 usually is. The Careers might expect that too. I shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. It was just a suggestion."

"Well, I mean, I suppose we could…but neither of us can handle weapons very well. They're pros."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he looked down at the table.

I grinned. "What."

"You haven't seen me practice."

I let out a laugh. "You practice?"

He nodded. "In my backyard. Nobody's seen me before. I figured it might come in handy if this ever happened."

"What weapon do you use?"

"More than one, actually."

I chuckled. "What are they?"

"Trident and spear."

Oh. I should've known those were his weapons. I'd seen him fishing a few times with them, and he was accurate. Very. But I didn't know that he trained with them.

I grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "Awesome."

He smiled. "Thanks. I've also practiced throwing knives a bit."

I gaped at him. "You have _knives_? Since when?" I hated knives. They're sharp, dangerous, and deadly.

He pushed me playfully. "_Kitchen _knives, Chastity."

I chuckled. "Oh. Of course."

"I could teach you a bit. It's tricky, but it's not like sword fighting or anything."

I nodded. "I guess. It might be hard though. I hate them. And I've never used a knife."

I immediately regret saying that as a painful memory resurfaces. I could tell Mason thought about it too. I saw the pain and fear in his eyes, but I pushed it to the back of my mind as he pulled me into a hug.

He sighed. "We'll figure something out in training, okay? I'll help you with the stuff I'm good at. And maybe you'll find something else. There are a few easy weapons."

"Since when was there such a thing as and 'easy weapon'?" I asked, my voice muffled by his shirt pressed up against my face.

He shrugged. "There's probably something that you can do. Okay?"

I nodded. "So are we going to try to join up with the Careers or not?"

"Yes. I think we should," he replied.

"Okay. Let's do it then."

"So at training, we should ask to join up with them."

He paused. "Chastity?"

I couldn't help but start crying as the reality of all this struck me unexpectedly. Mason and I were going into an arena full of kids who were going to have to kill each other. Only one, if either of us, could come out alive. It couldn't be me. If I got my way, it wouldn't be me, because Mason would have to die. But he was determined to get me out alive.

"I don't want to lose you," I mumbled, followed by a sob.

He stroked my hair and laid his head down on mine. "I don't want to lose you either."

He stood there hugging me for several minutes as I blubbered into the shoulder of his shirt. "It's okay," he said. But I couldn't stop crying.

Poppy skipped in happily a moment later and saw me crying into Mason's shoulder. Her smile faded. "What's wrong with her?"

Mason scowled. "What do you _think_ is wrong with her?"

She stepped back. "I…"

He stared at her grimly.

"Well, you should be excited!" She walked over and patted me on the back. "You're going into the Hunger Games! This is great! _Such _an honor."

I started crying harder. I buried my face into Mason again. I knew I shouldn't be crying like a wimp, but I just couldn't help it.

"Go away, Poppy." Mason said. "Please, just go."

I looked up to see Poppy's expression fade. She started to walk out of the room. "Looks like we've got an emotional girl this year." She said to herself.

"Shut up, Poppy!" I snapped. It came out more forceful than intended. She looked over, her lip trembling. She ran out of the room and closed the door behind her as tears threatened to spill over, her face turning red. I felt a bit guilty about it, but she had gotten on my bad side.

"I didn't mean for it to come out like that," I told Mason, blowing my nose into a tissue. I stifled a laugh. "But it looks like we've got an emotional escort this year."

He laughed. "Yeah."

I smiled and wiped the tears off my face. "I'm gonna go take a shower before dinner."

"Okay."

I walked out of the main room and went into my bedroom. My jaw dropped as I looked around the lush room. The red velvety canopy bed was covered in soft pillows. Next to it was a television. What it was for, I didn't know. The Games are about the only thing people watch on television anymore. But I'd never had a television anyways. I always watched the Games in the square, or occasionally at Mason's house. But this year we'd be on the other side of the screen. There was an oak wardrobe opposite the bed with a small window on either side. I walked over to it and opened the doors. There were a few nice dresses and jackets hanging there, and below them were some shirts and pants folded up. There were a couple of drawers below the main compartment: one for undergarments, and one for pajamas. I took out a pair of long, silky pajamas and laid them out on the bed for the night.

I then walked into the bathroom. There was a sink next to the door, and a shiny, porcelain toilet. A large bathtub spanned the width of the room, and there was a shower in the corner. I pulled off my dress and shoes and stepped into the shower. The water automatically cut on when I got in, and my eyes rolled back in my head as the warm water washed over my body. The closest thing I'd ever had to a shower was dousing myself with a hose, so this felt luxurious. I washed my hair with the summery smelling shampoo, and scrubbed myself with soap and a pouf. I rinsed off, and then closed my eyes and stood there, taking in the loveliness of the moment. I tried to relax myself, and I somewhat did. The water could rinse off soap, but nothing could wash away my worries.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, let's get down to business," Mags, my mentor, said with a smile. She looked at Mason. "Your mentor should be here shortly. I don't know what's holding him up."

He nodded.

Poppy's eyes darted up from her plate, but then quickly went back down to her meal as I glanced over. She was still sour about what had happened earlier. We apologized about it, but she was still upset. When Poppy went to the bathroom to reapply her lipstick, Mags told us that she always makes a big deal out of things like that.

"Who's my mentor?" Mason asked. I could barely make out what he said, considering the amount of grilled chicken, with some kind of green, chunky sauce that I hadn't had the courage to try, in his mouth. He was a nervous eater. He stuffed his face like it was the last time he'd ever eat when he was nervous. So I didn't know how he even had time to chew at the moment. But I had a really difficult time getting anything down when I was nervous or depressed. I learned that the hard way after my parents died. And I couldn't eat now, despite that the food was really rich and disturbing my stomach.

"Cyan Galloway. You might remember him from his Games a few years back."

I do remember him. I saw him up on the stage at the Reaping. Come to think of it, I think I saw him look at me a few times… never mind. Probably just glancing around the crowd.

He's 19 now. He won the Hunger Games when he was 15. He didn't join up with 1 and 2 like usual, but instead he made an alliance with both the District 7 tributes. It was clever. The arena had huge, looming trees and wide rivers. They made a great shelter out of lumber, and he fished. They managed to make it to the final four, then he… he killed them in their sleep with their own axes. It upset him doing that. I understand why he did that though. They were both younger than him, and not strong enough to take out the District 1 boy. Two-hundred forty pounds of pure muscle. It was a wonder Cyan was able to beat him. Really shocking. How could we _not_ remember that?

I gaped at her. "He's his mentor?"

Mason smiled. "Awesome!"

Mags nodded. "Yes, he's a nice guy."

"So," I asked, "How did you win your Games?"

Her smile faded. "Well, I was with the tributes from one and two, and the boy from four. When it got down to the final ten, both district two tributes were dead, so there were four of us. The boy from our district, Troy, and I left them one night to go off on our own, but we ended up splitting up so it wouldn't get down to the two of us." She sighed. "But it did. I had no choice but to kill him."

"Oh."

We sat in silence for a moment. I tasted the chicken in green sauce. It tasted sweet.

"Are you two going to join one and two?" Mags asked, breaking the silence.

I shrugged. "Well, we were thinking-"

"I don't mean to interrupt, but you two are an alliance?" She said.

I smiled. "Yeah. We're going out."

"Oh! Sorry, I should have realized." Her expression softened. "I'm sorry this is happening to you two. It's already difficult enough, being in the Games. I can't imagine what you two are going through… It must be really hard. I'm sorry."

I smiled sadly. "Thanks."

Mason bit his lip. "I'm going to make sure Chastity survives."

I shook my head. "No, it has to be you. It's you or neither of us."

"No. Chastity-"

I frowned. "Mason! If one of us is going to win, it's you. You have so much to live for. I don't. You've got to win."

He stared down at his plate for a minute. "Even if I were to make it out, I still wouldn't _win_." He looked up from his food, shoving the plate away. "The word winning describes a happy thing. When you win something, you benefit from it. But I couldn't benefit from winning the Hunger Games. The nightmares from the Games would be horrible. And knowing everyone else was dead. I couldn't handle that. You know how I am."

I do. He's very protective of people, and he always puts others in front of himself. When he fails to protect someone, he regrets it horribly. But that's something he would have to deal with.

"But Mason-"

He shook his head. "Chastity, I would regret not letting you live. Failing to get you out. You have to! I know the odds of either of us winning are really slim but I have to try to help you win. It's why I volunteered in the first place!"

I gave myself a minute to digest everything. It must be horrible in so many ways, going on after the Games. But for Mason and I, it would be so much harder than that. And it will be, if one of us is Victor. I couldn't take it.

Mason stood up, pushing his chair back from the table. "I need a minute," he mumbled.

Mags stared sadly at him as he shuffled into his room, quietly closing the door behind him. She looked over at me and patted me on the hand. "I'm sorry, honey."

"Thank you."

We sat in silence for a minute. "So what were we talking about?" I asked.

Mags thought for a moment. "I was asking if you two are joining up with districts 1 and 2."

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. We are. We're going to see if they want to team up with us in training."

"I think that's a good strategy. But they would have to accept you. What skills do you two have?"

I thought about it and frowned. "I've got nothing I can think of. But Mason's handy with spears, tridents and knives."

"That's great. But not necessarily weapons." She said. "Sometimes survival skills are far better to have than self-defense skills. When it comes down to it, they're alot more important."

I've had to keep myself alive for nearly eight , relying mainly on myself. I didn't want to go to the community home, so I had help from others, especially Mason and his family. Surely I know how to do something.

I groaned. "I don't know. It seems like I should have something but I can't quite put my finger on it," I said with a shrug. Maybe survival in general.

"It's alright. We'll figure something out."

We sat there for several more minutes, not saying much.

We looked up as someone walked in and sat down across from me at the table. He grinned at us and ran his hand through his curly brown hair.

"Hello, Chastity," Cyan Galloway said as he shook my hand. "Nice to meet you."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you too."

"Hi Poppy."

"Hello." Poppy replied as she wiped her mouth on a napkin.

He turned to Mags. "Hey."

"Hi Cyan," she said as she looked at her watch, "I don't know if you noticed, but dinner started ten minutes ago." She looked a bit irritated, and I guessed that his tardiness was not a rare thing.

"Sorry. I was taking a shower to make myself look" -He flipped his hair- "Presentable." He flashed a smile.

I giggled. Mags rolled her eyes.

We made small talk for a few minutes, which Cyan spent trying to act charming, until Mason came back in.

"Hi," he said to Cyan with a nod. He held out a hand, and Cyan grasped it.

He smiled. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

I noticed that Mason's eyes were a bit red and he kept swallowing pretty hard. The only person he would make eye contact with was me.

_You okay?_ I mouthed when the others were conversing about chariot costumes.

He nodded and cleared his throat.

I gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back half-heartedly and started listening to the others. I sat there in silence for the rest of the meal, not having anything to say, but not in the mood to anyways.

I sat down on the edge of my bed with a sigh, and sat there for several minutes staring at the floor, processing the events of the day and thinking about the week to come in the Capitol. I could only hope that it would be a good week, but knowing how nervous I'd felt that day, it would probably only get worse as the Games neared. I put my head in my hands and plopped backwards onto the bed, trying not to be emotional.

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door. I sat up. "Come in," shouted. My voice cracked. "It's unlocked."

The door opened a few inches and Mason stuck his head in "Are you okay?" he asked. "You left dinner quickly."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered, staring down at my feet.

He came in and sat down beside me, and grabbed my hand.

"It'll be okay."

I looked up at him. "You shouldn't have volunteered."

He sighed. "I had to."

"Why?" I asked.

He stared out the window. "I had to make sure you were safe. I wasn't going to let you be reaped like that and just sit there and do nothing. You know I couldn't have."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't, I could have tried to win and came home. Even if I hadn't won you still would have been alright. Now one of us dies even if one wins. But we'll probably both die."

"I have to protect you. You know that."

"Not you didn't," I said, wiping a tear. "I could have protected myself."

He wrapped an arm around me, and I lay my head on his shoulder. He sighed.

"I didn't want you to go through this alone."

We sat there for a long time until I felt my eyelids getting heavy. I yawned loudly.

"Mason?" I mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"I'mmm…" –I yawned again- "Tireddddd."

"Okay. You should go to bed, it's getting late."

I nodded, and I walked over to the side of my bed. I climbed in, still in my clothes, and curled up under the covers. I felt like a small child.

"Goodnight," he whispered, and kissed me on the forehead.

"Night."

He smiled at me one last time, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I thought sleep would come quickly, but it was exactly the opposite. I tossed and turned for several hours, not able to get visions of the arena out of my head. After a while, the tears came. Eventually I laid there motionless, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, and thankfully, it did. Only when I thought about sitting around the warm fireplace at my house with my family, with my head in my mother's lap as she braided my long, brunette hair, listening to my father play a calm, bluesy song on his harmonica, back in the times when my life was complete, did I finally find sleep.

I pulled the covers off my head and looked up as Poppy strolled in, singing a cheery song about turkey fried and blueberry pie, as well as some delicacies I'm not quite sure of. She was obviously over what had happened the previous day, to my luck. She yanked the curtains from the windows, and a huge amount of light streamed in. I squinted my eyes and shielded them with my hand.

"Gooooood morning, watergirl!" she said cheerily. Watergirl? I didn't have any time to wonder about that before she burst loudly into a song about a girl with wings. I twisted my face in confusion. What was that supposed to be about? All of our songs in District four have some sort of message.

"What time is it?" I asked. My voice sounded a bit hoarse after crying so much yesterday.

"Just past six."

I moaned and sat up.

"Time to get up!" she said. "We're here!"

"Where?" I asked, sliding out of bed and staggering over to the window. My jaw dropped. Huge, extravagant buildings lined the huge streets, where colorful cars rode. I saw cars occasionally in my District, but not everyone could afford one. I didn't ride in them much. Everything was so bright and light-reflecting, so I covered my eyes again.

Strange-looking citizens stood near the railroad, screaming and jumping. They went absolutely nuts when they saw my face peering through the window. I couldn't hear them, but I could see they were saying my name. I focused on their outfits, and my eyes widened. And I thought Poppy's attire was over-the-top.

The whole city was amazing. Everything was so…fancy.

Poppy giggled at my facial expressions. "Welcome to the Capitol!"


	5. Chapter 5

_Pluck!_

I cringed as Chelsea Folly, one of the girls in my prep team, plucked away at my sore eyebrows.

"Ow…"

"Sorry!" She said with a giggle, returning to pulling out the little hairs above my eyes. I clenched my jaw and stared at the bright lights on the ceiling, wincing with every pull.

"First time having your eyebrows done?" She asked with a laugh. I nodded stiffly. Who _does? _Surely not anyone I know.

"I'm not surprised! You have pretty eyebrows, but they're kind of bushy." I'd never thought that. I always thought I had pretty thin eyebrows. But compared to the eyebrows of my prep team, my eyebrows were pretty thick. Theirs were like little slivers above their eyes.

"You have a nice complexion," Blankley Wimble, another prep team member, said thoughtfully.

"Thanks."

"Have you been told that before?" He asked.

I shook my head and closed my eyes

_RRRRRIIIIIIIPPPPP!_

I yelped and looked down at my feet, where Pimby Quaker, another member of my prep team, had just yanked a big piece of wax paper off my red, searing leg.

"Ouhhhhhhh."

"Sorry," she said, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I know it hurts."

I took a deep breath as she continued ripping out my sensitive bodily hairs. I don't know why they had decided to save the painful stuff for last. I was pretty sore, and I felt awkward laying there naked, but I had to admit, it was worth it. I looked amazing. In the few hours I had laid there, I transformed. My skin shimmered brightly, almost as if I were glowing. Every scar, mole, and freckle had vanished. My nails were in perfect ovals, and all the sand that had collected under them from years of spending hours daily on the beach was gone. My arms and legs were now hairless, and my eyebrows were perfectly shaped. I was clean from taking a luxurious bath. I looked flawless. But the only thing they hadn't messed with was my hair, because my stylist requested to do it himself.

I laid there patiently, staring at the ceiling as my prep team continued putting the finishing touches on me, as they spoke about their excitement about the Games. I was jealous. All this was for them is a game. They don't have to worry about it, totally carefree. Whereas, I was trying to make my last few days halfway enjoyable. My stomach churned as their conversation shifted to the tributes.

"Did you see the tributes from one? They volunteered like savages!" Blankley exclaimed.

"Remember that twelve year old girl? How exciting!" said Pimby. I frown. It's rare for really young kids to be reaped, but it does happen. And when it does, they often get lots of pity from the other Districts. It's already horrible enough for me, being almost eighteen. I can't imagine being twelve and having to go through this. It's awful. I made a mental note to meet the twelve year old girl, and potentially ally with her.

"The girl from District 2 looks absolutely vicious! Hate to get in a fight with her!" Chelsea commented.

"Oh, and don't even get me _started _on the _guy_ from District 2!" Blankly said. "He looks absolutely wild!"

I gulped. District 2 usually has very dangerous tributes, but their comments were unnerving. It made my anxiety about training even worse.

"Can you sit up?" Blankley asked me. I nodded and sat up on the little bed.

My prep team stepped back to admire their work, making little comments under their breath and looking at every detail considerately. I took this as a good chance to observe their outfits as well.

Pimby was in a knee-length neon orange and yellow dress. She had on green stiletto boots and a colorful headscarf. Her ponytailed long, straight hair was brown with a green streak going down the side. She had dark green lipstick and long, yellow eyelashes that donned her blue eyes.

Blankley had on a light green tuxedo-type suit with darker blue dress shoes. He had short, black hair and piercing grey eyes that I assumed were contacts.

And Chelsea. Oh, gosh. She had long red hair (not a natural shade of red) with matching skin, which was dyed carnation pink. She had red eyes (dyed that color, she had told me) surrounded in makeup. Her skin and nails were glittery. Her dress was the most outrageous of everything. It was actually a simple white and pink dress that looked somewhat normal. But it was the wings attached to it that made it so unusual. On the back of the dress were butterfly wings that flapped when she stepped. Not only were they freaky, but they had to be avoided. In fact, I'd been batted in the face several times by them.

"Well," Chelsea said with a giggle, "You're _dooone! _You look fabulous!_" _She grinned and clapped her hands together.

"You look absolutely stunning!" Pimby said excitedly.

"Amazing," Blankley added.

"Thanks." I said. I felt myself blush. "And thank you for doing this work on me."

"You're welcome, dear," Blankley said.

"My _pleasure_!" Chelsea said, patting me on the hand and then doing a little dance.

Pimby looked at Chelsea strangely and then returned her gaze to me. "Well, it's time to get Greghin!"

Chelsea grinned. "Yay!" She then trotted out of the room, her wings flapping, followed by Pimby and Blankley. I saw the wings hit the other prep team members a few times before they finally disappeared from my view.

I sat there for a second before I realized I should put something on while I waited, so I grabbed a robe and wrapped it around myself. I looked around the room for a few minutes until the door opened. A tall thin man, who appeared to be in his early to mid-twenties, with a simple silver silky shirt and black bell-bottomed pants strode in. I'd seen him a couple of times during past Games. He smiled sincerely with his thin lips and brown eyes and pushed a strand of his blue hair out of his face.

"Hi Chastity," he said as he walked into the room. "I'm Greghin Nead, your stylist. Nice to meet you." He had a bit of a Capitol accent, but it didn't sound outrageous or funny. In fact, it complimented his smooth, gentle voice. He held out a hand. I shook it stiffly.

"You too."

"So," he said, "How is your visit to the Capitol so far? Do you like it?"

I shrugged. I really didn't, but I didn't want to say that to him. "It's fine."

He smiled. "I know you probably don't like it."

How could anyone? This is the place they ship us before we are going to be killed. I can't exactly say I have good feelings for the place.

"Can you take off your robe, please?" Greghin asked.

I gulped and stood up, letting the robe slide off. I felt my face turn hot.

"Sorry," he said. "It's always awkward."

I stood there uncomfortably, resisting the impulse to cover myself back up. "What are you doing?" I asked curiously. I wasn't mad. He didn't seem like the type you would get mad at anyways. I just wanted to know.

"Trying to think of how I'm going to do your costume," he said as he looked me over. "I have an idea for what I'm going to do." I wondered what idea he had in mind.

"What costume will I be wearing?" I asked him.

He smiled. "I'll tell you in a little while." My stomach growled, and I put a hand on it with a chuckle. I hadn't given lunch much thought since I met my prep team because so much had been going on, but now that I thought of it, I was starving. I licked my lips thinking about the luxurious, gourmet food we would be eating.

"You can put the robe back on," he said after a minute. I slipped it back on graciously. "Follow me." I followed him out of the room and into a nice room down the hallway. It had huge windows that you could see almost the whole Capitol through. I stared at it, completely stunned. I had seen it in the train, but the view hadn't been nearly this good.

He chuckled. "Amazing, isn't it?"

I nodded and sat down. He did the same. "It's so different than District four." Saying its name made my stomach lurch, and I immediately regretted mentioning home. Where I longed to go back to, but knew I never would.

"What's it like there?" He asked, looking at me curiously.

I smiled sadly as I recalled life back home. "It's lovely. The ocean is so stunning, especially when the sun is rising."

"The ocean," he said thoughtfully. "I bet it's beautiful."

I knitted my eyebrows and looked up at him, my head tilted to the side. "You've never seen the ocean?"

He shook his head. "No. But I've seen pictures."

That made sense. The Capitol was probably too far away from the ocean.

"I've never swam anyways."

"You've never swam?" I asked, surprised. I guess that's normal for some people, but if you live in District four, it's second nature. Most everyone learns how to swim around the same time they learn how to walk and talk. Or when they're in pre-k, like me. That was last year, actually.

Not really. Humorous thoughts about myself entered my mind frequently, but now was not the time for jokes. Not preparing for my death.

"No. It looks fun but I never got around to it." He shrugged.

"Oh." I looked back out the window. "Where are we, exactly?" I asked. I knew it was about an eighteen-hour train ride, but in which direction from my district I had no idea. It could be anywhere. All I knew is that it was in a mountainous area.

He sighed and looked over at the window, as if considering telling me or not. "In the lower-Midwestern Part of Panem, I suppose. They used to call this the Rocky Mountains. I'm not allowed to say anything, but it won't hurt to tell you." 'Because it doesn't matter if a person who's about to die finds that out' is what he probably meant.

"Hmm." They never told us anything about the locations of anything in Panem, besides the location of our own district and a bit of information about the location of the Capitol. I'd pretty much known what he told me. But I had been wanting more. Such as what districts surrounded the Capitol. But I didn't want him to get in trouble by telling. I didn't really know why they keep it from us, I guess so we wouldn't learn anything about each other. I'd always been curious.

He cleared his throat. "So, lunch," he said, changing the subject. He looked over expectantly at a door on the other side of the room. "It should be here any minute now."

As if on cue, two people walked in carrying large plates and glasses with a pitcher full of a beverage. The smell of steak wafted in, and my mouth watered. They sat the food down on the table in front of us and poured the drink into the cups. It was tea. The people worked silently, setting the table for us.

But they weren't normal people. They looked like some strange type of servants. I'd never seen people like them before. Probably their work uniforms, I assumed.

"Thank you," I said as they finished up. They went over and stood in the corner of the room without a reply. They were motionless, their heads bowed. I looked at them, and the female smiled at me for a moment before averting her eyes downward and resuming her emotionless expression.

"Who are you?" I asked. They continued staring downward, not acknowledging my question. I looked at Greghin for an answer.

"Avoxes," he said, cutting his steak and putting some in his mouth.

"What?"

"Servants for the Capitol," he responded. "If you need something, let them know."

"Why do they look like that?"

"They're traitors, convicted criminals. When they're caught, their tongues are cut out so they can't talk, and they work for the Capitol for the rest of their lives." My eyes widened. "It's barbaric, if you ask me," he said in a hushed tone.

I nodded, staring uneasily at my food. How could they do that to them? It's cruel! Just another example of how incredibly evil the Capitol could be. I poked at my steak with a fork.

"It's filet mignon," he said. "It's good. You should try it."

I shrugged and cut off a bite, and then put it in my mouth. I grinned. It was delicious. I cut some more off and put it in my mouth ravenously. I also ate some of the asparagus in cheese sauce and the soft roll, both of which were delectable. It was undoubtedly the best meal I'd ever had.

"So, are you excited about the Tribute Parade this evening?" He asked.

"I guess. I'm kind of nervous about going out into public for the first time, though."

He nodded. "That's typical. But it's actually really fun! I think you'll enjoy it."

"I hope I can get some sponsors. With any luck, I won't look too weak."

He laughed. "Oh, trust me, you'll get sponsors."

I smiled and looked around as an avox walked up, carrying two little plates. He laid them on the table, and I saw that it was chocolate cake, with several layers of frosting and shiny flecks on top. Possibly some type of chocolate or caramel sprinkles. Hopefully I didn't get too much drool on the table staring at it. I quickly sliced off a bit of the cake and tasted it, and my eyes rolled back in my head. It tasted amazing.

"Woah," I said, licking the crumbs off my lips. "What are the little flecks on top?"

"Gold."

I coughed and put my fork down. "Excuse me?"

"It's shredded gold."

I stared at the cake, disgusted. So dirt poor people who live in the districts starve to death, while people in the Capitol sit around and eat freaking _gold?! _It's gold! Not sprinkles! The tiny bit of gold I had just eaten could've put food on my table for days. In District four, I'm _pretty _sure nobody sits around eating precious metals. I scraped the top off the cake and continued eating it, although I wasn't enjoying it anymore.

"So what do you have planned for me tonight?" I asked, still staring at the little crumbles of gold on my plate.

"You'll see later," he said, a sly grin spanning his face. "But I'm sure it'll make a big splash."


	6. Chapter 6

"Don't look yet," Greghin said, a smile adorning his lips, as he messed with my hair, trying to figure out a style for it. I kept sneaking glances downwards to try to see part of my costume, but he must've caught me.

"Sorry."

He laughed and reached over to grab a hair curler, and put a blue scrunchie in my hair to the side. He then curled my hair in the ponytail holder, and added some embellishments and a clip.

"You look amazing."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Just some makeup and you're done."

I nodded as he grabbed a palette of makeup and started to design my face. He only took several minutes before he stepped back, staring at me, and grinned widely.

I smiled at his reaction. "How do I look?"

"Answer that for yourself. Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes obediently and followed behind him as he led me over to the side of the room. He grabbed my shoulders and positioned me in front of a body-length mirror.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Open your eyes."

I slowly opened my eyes, and immediately gasped at my reflection. I looked like a whole new person. My light brown hair was in a side ponytail, curled from the ponytail down. It was decorated with blue and silver glitter and small pearls. A seashell clip was on the other side to keep the hair out of my face. I had on silver false eyelashes and blue sparkly eyeliner, along with light pink lip gloss and a bit of shimmering blush. I had a strapless bikini top made of two large seashells. And I had a large fin that went from below my bellybutton all the way down to my feet. It was the most stunning outfit I had ever seen.

"Oh" was all I could manage. I brought a hand up to my mouth and stared, wide eyed and open mouthed.

Greghin had turned me into a mermaid.

I gaped at my outfit, mesmerized by my appearance. He smiled.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I laughed. "This is incredible."

"Glad you like it."

I laughed. "I think I'll make a pretty good impression in this."

"Oh, yes. You don't even worry about getting sponsors."

I turned around and threw my arms around Greghin. He stumbled back, caught off guard, and then patted me on the back.

"Thank you so much," I said gratefully, stepping back so he could see me. "This is just what I need."

"You don't have to thank me," he said, smiling.

"So, is Mason in the same getup?" I asked him.

He nodded. "You'll be quite the pair."

I grinned. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He's with his stylist. You'll see him in a bit." He glanced at the clock. "Oh, well, in fact, we should be headed downstairs. The Tribute Parade will be starting soon."

I followed him into the elevator. It had chrome walls, with lights built in to the floor and ceiling, and an orchestral tune was playing. I closed my eyes and strained my ears to hear it. It sounded familiar. It was beautiful, and it make my heart ache, making me think about my love for music. I played flute in the school band. It was an old flute that my parents bought at the market when I was little. I sure would miss it. But my happiness turned to bitterness when I realized that it was the song they played at the end of the Games last year, when they showed the recaps of the Games at the victor's final interview. His name was Chaff, from District 11. It made me sick to my stomach thinking of the gruesome injury to his hand in the final minutes of the Games. They amputated it, but he didn't have the Capitol replace it with a fake one. When he came to District 4 on his Victory tour, I saw the stump on his arm. The song brought back memories I'd rather not be thinking about. Luckily, the elevator ride ended before I got to thinking too hard.

"Oh, we must be a bit early," Greghin commented as we stepped out of the elevator into a big room with a bunch of chariots. A few tributes were there with their mentors and stylists, but not many. I spotted Alistair and Sarai (the girl who was twelve) from District 8, Egret and Tom from 9, Dalia and Rick from 12, and I glanced to the side right as Mason walked up. I smiled at him and then gasped. He did the same. He looked great as a merman. He had no shirt on, which was great at showing his tanned muscles. That would surely get sponsors. He had the same fin as me. He also had the seashell on my barrette, which he wore on a choker. And his hair was tousled, like someone had ruffled it with their hands. But it looked hot, actually. All the girls in the audience would love it. I laughed.

"You look amazing!" I exclaimed.

He laughed and kissed me. "So do you!"

I giggled and then looked beside Mason, where a woman who appeared to be his stylist was standing. I blushed. I hadn't known she had been standing there.

"Hi," I said sheepishly.

"Hi! You must be Chastity," she said, holding out a hand to me. "I'm Olivae Jundsets."*

"Nice meeting you."

"You too," she said warmly, walking off to speak to someone. She had dark brown skin with long purple hair and purple eyes as well. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties.

"So," I said to Mason, "Are you nervous?"

He shrugged. "Nah. Are you?"

"Not really. I just hope people like us."

"I'm sure they will. Our mentors did us right. I nodded. "Did your stylist show you the little contraption at the bottom of the dress?

I knitted my eyebrows. "No. What is it?"

"Watch this." He reached down and pulled a little cord in a seam in his fin that I hadn't noticed, and a bit of fabric was lifted up at the bottom of the fin. Water seeped out in random places as it were running off the scales. I smiled. He quickly pulled the cord back up.

"Wouldn't want that to run out before the parade," he said.

I nodded. "No wonder it felt so cool against my skin. I just assumed it was made of satin of something."

"Trying out the water, eh?"

We turned around, and Greghin was standing there, smiling.

"Oh." Mason stared at the puddle on the floor. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Greghin said. "In fact, it's probably best that you two tested that out first." He looked at me. "Don't let out too much water."

I reached in the seam on the side of the dress and grabbed the cord, and pulled it. Water seeped out of some of the scales and created the effect of water running down my body. I grinned. It was really cool. I quickly pulled the cord again and the after stopped flowing. What was left ran down and collected in puddles on the floor.

"This is incredible. Who made this?"

"I came up with the idea a few weeks ago, and Olivae and I went with it."

I smiled. "This is so cool! Great idea."

"Thank you."

I looked up and saw that almost all the tributes were here and were standing with their mentors, escorts, and stylists. But Mags, Cyan, and Poppy were nowhere to be found. Something had to be wrong.

"Where are our mentors and Poppy?" I asked, puzzled.

He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know." He glanced down at a fancy watch on his wrist. "They were supposed to come ten minutes ago."

I sighed, wishing they were here. Almost everyone was, except for one district. I couldn't really tell which one.

We stood around for a few minutes waiting and having our mentors do finishing touches until the elevator doors opened. I shiver went down my spine. It was the District 2 tributes and their mentors and escort. They looked even scarier in person. The girl caught me looking at her and smirked. I looked away nervously until they passed by, and then glanced back as the doors opened again and Poppy, Mags, and Cyan emerged. Poppy looked shaken up, and Mags looked concerned, but was obviously trying to hide it. They stood next to us uncomfortably, especially Poppy.

"Hey, where were you?" I asked.

"Nowhere. Sorry we're late, dear," Mags said. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks. What held you up?"

"Nothing. We're fine," said Mags. But Poppy's expression did not say that she was fine.

I sighed. Apparently she wasn't going to say.

Cyan walked up to me and flashed his set of pearly-white teeth. "Hey there."

"Hi."

"You look h- nice," he said. He winked.

"Um… thanks." I glanced over at Mason, who looked like he was refraining from wringing out Cyan's neck. He gave him the evil eye. Cyan stepped back and threw up his hands, backing off.

Greghin tapped on my shoulder. I turned around. "It's time," he said with a smile.

"Okay."

We walked over to our chariot and took our places. I grabbed Mason's hand. He smiled and gripped it back.

"I'm getting nervous," I said anxiously. I didn't even know why I was nervous, to be honest. I just was.

"It's ok."

I sighed and looked at the other tributes. District 1 had on outfits covered in shimmering sequins. District 2 had on a full set of armor. They looked like warriors. Well, after all, that's what they are. District 3 was wearing suits that looked like smoke. Their legs looked like pipes, and their feet looked like little factories. Definitely the strangest costumes I'd seen from them. District 5 looked like lightning bolts. District 6 was dressed up in black suits with little railroads on them. District 7 looked like wood piles, and they had on hats that resembled fire. District 8 was dressed similarly to Peacekeepers. I'd never thought about it, but that was probably where their suits were made. District 9 had on these dresses (yes, the guy too) that had corn stalks hanging off of them. District 10 was in big feathered suits with wings, like chickens. I stifled a laugh at that. It looked ridiculous. District 11 had farmer's suits. And I felt sorry for District 12. They were almost naked and covered in powdered up coal. They had on headlamps and boots. That's pretty typical for their District. All the costumes were pretty good, but I honestly thought ours was the best.

I stood there nervously until the chariots in front of us started to move.

"Mason-" I mumbled. I had never felt comfortable in front of large crowds, and with me being part of the center of attention, I felt even worse.

"It'll be fine," he said reassuringly. I nodded and looked over at Greghin and Olivae, who were gesturing for us to pull the cords. We did, and the water started rolling down our suits. I swallowed hard as our chariot started to move. We rode more and more quickly, and I began to hear screaming as spectators saw the first of the tributes. I caught a glimpse of the wild crowd.

And then we rode out into the square.

***Olivae Jundsets is pronounced OL-i-vah JUND-sits, just so you know :)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I know this wasn't a very exciting chapter, but it's an important filler. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with the story so far! It means a lot! Please remember to review! It keeps me motivated to keep writing the story! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

The whole chariot ride was a blur. At first I was nervous. Of what the other tributes would think of me. Of what the crowd would think. Panem. But as soon as we got out there, it was made pretty obvious that there wasn't much for us to worry about. The cheering doubled when Mason and I rode out. Fans screamed our names. They threw flowers. I couldn't help but smile and wave at these people. They didn't seem judgmental. They didn't even seem human, or not the type of human I'd seen before. They were so… carefree. And they even blew kisses in our direction. Probably most of which were intended for Mason, no doubt. He looked like a total heartthrob. I'd never thought of him as more handsome than any other guy, but now I saw it. The crowd loved him, especially the girls. Whenever someone blew him a kiss, he would blow it back. Lots of them screamed and went nuts.

One of them fainted and plunged ten feet off a balcony.

She was fine, though. Probably. I saw some Peacekeepers run over to her. I didn't really understand why she fainted just at the sight of Mason blowing her a kiss. I guess it's because, like I said, these people don't even act human. They're crazy. Drooling over him like fangirls. I've never seen anyone back home act like this. It's peculiar. The people of the Capitol are so unusual.

People liked me, too. I heard my name being screamed from every direction. I tried to wave at the general locations of the screams, but it was hard to tell exactly who screamed my name because of all the commotion. It was flattering. Hopefully some of them would sponsor me.

A few minutes into the ride, Mason did something I wasn't expecting. He pulled me over to him and kissed me. And let me say, the crowd went absolutely _crazy._ Even more crazy than they had already been. At first I didn't understand why, but then it occurred to me that this was the first they had seen of us 'lovers'. This was the moment that they would piece together everything that had happened. Me being reaped. Him volunteering. To save me. It would seem so heartbreaking to some of them. The emotions of the hopeless romantics in the crowd would go wild. He probably guaranteed us sponsors just with that. And that wasn't the last of the kissing either.

Soon, we all circled around the square while President Snow welcomed us. He was a white-haired thin, small man who appeared to be in his mid-forties. He had incredibly snakelike eyes that always gave me goosebumps just to look at. He could have you killed in an instant. I shuttered as his gaze lingered on me. I could have sworn it was not a pleasant gaze.

"Welcome, everyone," he said into the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the crowd. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Once he was done, we rode around one more time. And before either of us knew it, the ride was over. It only felt like seconds had passed before we were already climbing out of the chariot, awestruck.

"Wow," Mason muttered, looking back at the crowd. I nodded in agreement. Wow.

"Great job!" Mags said, patting us both on the back. I could hear the worried tone in her voice though. I wondered why. That definitely wasn't normal. Did we do something wrong?

Cyan complimented me again, but without the usual flirtatiousness. The mentors were acting strange.

Poppy did nothing to hide what she was feeling. She kept looking around nervously, and she fiddled with her sparkly clutch. She took quick breaths, and I was worried she needed an inhaler.

"Are you okay?" Mason asked her, saying exactly what I had been wondering.

She nodded. But it was more like little head twitches. "Yes. I'm fine." I swallowed, a bit worried. I had to find out what it was they were so worried about.

"You did wonderfully," Greghin said with a smile. He acted completely normal.

"Thank you."

I yawned loudly, one of those yawns that make your arm and head shake. "Oh, man. I'm tired."

Mason nodded. "Ugh. Me too."

I sighed. It had been a big, busy day, so it was probably be a peaceful night.

But I had thought wrong. I had expected to fall asleep really quickly, but sleep didn't come soon. I lay in bed for what felt like hours, completely awake. It must have been anticipation, but I didn't feel nervous. I just felt tired. As you can imagine, I felt exhausted in the morning.

"So training starts today!" Poppy said happily as she munched on some fruit from the edible arrangement in the middle of the table.

I yawned and nodded, looking over at Mags and Cyan. "So what's our strategy?"

"Well, first off, don't show your skills. Don't let the other tributes know what you can do. Take that time to learn something new," Mags said.

Mason nodded. "Okay."

"Not that I have anything good enough to hide anyways," I said with a shrug as I put a piece of tender ham in my mouth. It was true. I had the skills of a tree log.

"Then this time will be crucial to you," she said. "Try everything they have, but focus on whatever you immediately have a niche for."

"But what if I don't?"

"You will. Trust me. For whatever you have a normal skill for, there will probably be something that is similar to that in training. What are you good at?"

"Science," I said immediately. That was my best subject in school. We mainly learned about marine biology and the hydrosphere, being District 4, but we did learn other things, and I was pretty good at it. I was always in the advanced science classes at school, and my best grades came from science.  
She nodded. "We can work with that. There's an edible plants station. You might be good there. Same with the edible insects."

"Okay, I'll do that. Do you want us to stay together?"

Mags looked over at Cyan, and they shared an anxious glance.

After a few seconds of what looked like telepathic communication, they both nodded. "Yes. Keep up the lovers look. But don't overdo it, too much and you will really start getting on people's nerves. People could start to dislike you for it."

"Trust us," Cyan said. "In my Games, the District 1 tributes had a crush on each other, and they flirted the entire training. It was so annoying!" He sighed. "Of course, she ended up killing him… and then I killed her…" he added with a grim expression. He must have been tapping into those painful Hunger Games memories that I've heard about. He squirmed in the seat awkwardly.

"So, Mason," Mags said suddenly, obviously to change the subject, "Stay away from your weapons. Try to learn something new."

He nodded, but then knitted his eyebrows. "Wait. Don't people from 1, 2, and 4 usually, you know…show off?"

She sighed and scratched her head for a second, thinking. "Well, that's true. They might not want to ally with you if they don't know for sure that you have skill."

"They won't be allying with me then," I said.

Mason turned to me. "How about this. I'll show off my skills, ask if I can ally with them, and if they want to, I'll tell them I won't ally with them unless they ally with you. That we're like a package deal."

I shrugged. "Not a bad idea."

"That could work," Cyan said. "Don't be modest in training. Same goes for you, Chastity. If you start showing skill in something, don't hide it."

I nodded.

"And I'll talk to their mentors to see what I can do. I'm friends with some of them."

"Okay, it's settled then," Mags said. She smiled. "I think training will go great!"

The first day of training did not go as well as I had been expecting. At first Mason and I stayed together, but then we separated. He went off to the weapons, while I stayed at the survival skills stations. Turns out I had a knack for fire-building and knot-tying. I hadn't expecting to have those skills. But I wasn't surprised when I was able to do really well at the edible plants station. Mason wasn't though. He failed that. Oh, well. That makes our alliance that much more important.

And he totally hit it off with Districts one and two. He practiced his weapons for a while, and I found it almost comical the way they stared at him. After a few hours they talked a bit, and it made me nervous as their gaze kept lingering over to me. The conversation went on for several minutes, and eventually Mason motioned me over. I gulped and walked over from the slingshot station, trembling with nerves.

"Hi," I said awkwardly. I didn't want to talk to them. Especially the tributes from Two. They stared at me like I was a delicious-looking meatloaf.

"This is Chastity," Mason said. "Chastity, this is our new alliance. Tiara, Butch, Legend, and Roxie." I gave a nod.

Roxie, the girl from two, smirked. "I remember you from your reaping. You looked like a wim-" She narrowed her eyes. "_Warrior._" She twirled her spear around like a baton.

"Hi there," Legend, the boy from One, said, his eyes scanning me. Looking for weakness, possibly.

_Snap out of it, Chastity,_ I thought harshly. _They allied with you._

"I _love _your hair," Tiara, District One's girl tribute, mused. She wacked my long ponytail, which was resting on my shoulder, and it swung around to the other side of my head. I winced.

"Oh. _Sorry._" She, Roxie, and Legend laughed. Butch, the boy from District Two, glared at them.

"Guys." He said sternly. He looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded nervously. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine." I looked over at Mason. He looked angry.

"Um, I'll, uh, just be over here," I said, and walked over to the Hammock Making Station. Mason followed me, and we started watching the trainer making knots.

"I don't like them," I whispered roughly once the other tributes' attention was off of us.

"Just give them a chance," he said. "They're better once you get to know them."

I frowned. "Then why were they so rude?"

"I don't know," he said, "But trust them."

"Why should I? They don't seem trustworthy at all." I thought for a moment. "Well, that Butch guy seemed okay."

He nodded. "Yeah. Please, just try to give them a chance. For me." He looked up at me.

I took a deep breath and glanced over at them. They were practicing throwing axes. I looked back at Mason. "Okay. But I'm leaving the alliance if anything else goes wrong."

His eyes widened and he froze. "Like that?" He asked quietly, staring at my neck. I looked down to see a knife at my throat.

**A/N: Hey guys! I am SOOOO sorry about the long lack of an update! I just started school a few weeks ago, so I have been extremely busy with school (obviously), homework, and Marching Band (and I will admit, a bit of a Facebook addiction ._.). But I'm going to try to write more to keep the story going faster! I understand how you're probably losing interest because of the infrequent updates. When the Games begin in the story, it will become more interesting, and I will update more. Please let me know what you think of the story! It motivates me when you do. :) **


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